


People Will Say

by ReyloTrashCompactor (NextToSomething)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dating, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Post-Canon, Redeemed Ben Solo, Tropes, well..."redeemed"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextToSomething/pseuds/ReyloTrashCompactor
Summary: In a ditch effort to coax the wary members of the Resistance into accepting the prodigal son Ben Solo back into their fold, General Leia Organa requests a hefty favor from Rey. "Behind every good man is a great woman" is how the saying goes, but the man formerly known as Kylo Ren isn't good, and Rey isn't sure that any manner of hand-holding is going to change people's minds about that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bittersnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersnake/gifts).



> This started as a prompt fill on tumblr, but I've lost my mind and decided to continue it. I hope you enjoy!

“And this is going to help _how?”_

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man.”

Rey’s eyes shot to the ceiling at General Organa’s words. The woman was nice enough, but she made Rey feel about two inches tall when she was pissed off. And she was always pissed off when Kylo Ren– _no, Ben–_ was in the room. They were standing in the General’s office and Rey couldn't help but notice how she automatically fell into her inspection-queue stance when she was in front of the woman’s desk. Other times, not in this room, Rey felt comfortable and relaxed with Leia; she considered her a friend. But it spoke volumes how the woman could go from telling crude stories in the mess that made even the most outspoken pilots blush, to the formidable military officer before her.

“I just don’t see how holding hands with a scavenger–”

Rey’s eyes snapped down from the ceiling at Ben’s words and she glared at him. “My name is Rey.”

He smirked at her, an easy, flippant twist of those full lips, and she didn’t like the warm flush over her body that followed it. “I know, sweetheart.”

He turned back to Leia as Rey opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with that little endearment.

“–holding hands _with a scavenger_ is going to win me any favor here.”

The General sighed. “I swear, you’re just like your–” She stopped, and the words fell hard and heavy in the room. She shook her head, her mouth tight, and that look that had Rey straightening her shoulders was back in her eyes. “You don’t have to get it, or understand it. You just do it, because I’m your commanding officer and I told you to. I get thirty complaints a day that I should lock you up with the rest of them, and I’m tired of it, Ben. I’m tired of having to explain to them _why_ I still believe my son still is in that egotistical, calloused shell somewhere. I’m not accustomed to my decisions being questioned, and I don’t like it.”

Ben opened his mouth to protest, but Leia snapped her fingers, stopping him. Rey didn’t think she used the Force, but she could never tell with this tiny, frightening woman. 

“Rey has been kind enough to agree to this charade, and believe me, she’s getting the lousy end of the deal. People _like_ her, Ben, and dammit, I hope they’ll at least _tolerate_ you if she’s standing close enough. I’ve already discussed this with Rey, and I’m not asking for much from you. Just...be kind to her. Hold her hand or not, I don’t care, but at least try to be civil?”

He turned to Rey then, looking over her head to toe; sizing her up. She turned toward him and, for a moment, couldn’t remember _why_ she had ever agreed to help the man. He’d looked broken on Starkiller, and maybe he had been. She’d felt enough of his wavering, shattered energy on that dying planet to choke her, to startle her out of sleep for weeks after. But now that he was here, now that he’d killed Snoke and brought them General Hux by the scruff of his neck, Kylo Ren looked like Ben Solo, and Ben Solo looked hard and angry and mean. His hair was longer, his eyes were colder, and the still pink and shiny scar that slashed across his face only added to his resentful and harsh demeanor.

He licked his lips, quirking his eyebrows at her when it became obvious that she was looking him over, too. Rey made a crude gesture with the hand facing away from the General, and he laughed. It was a cruel sound, but he wrapped his ridiculously huge hand around Rey’s, threw a pointed look back at his mother, and tugged Rey out of the General’s office.

“This is rich,” he muttered as he slammed the door shut behind them. Rey yanked her hand out of his and turned to leave when he wrapped a big, heavy arm around her middle and pulled her back flush against him. He didn’t wear as many layers now, and she could feel the startling heat of him through his dark grey linen shirt. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered against the curve of her ear. Just as she was about to turn and spit in his face, he set teeth to that sensitive bit of cartilage and skin, sending equal measures of anger and hot curiosity flashing through her.

“Rey?”

She groaned at the sound of her friend’s voice. The noise morphed into something like a giggle when Ben sucked her earlobe between his teeth, and she was a little more than miffed at how little she was having to fake enjoying what he was doing.

“Oh, hey Finn.” _Oh, kriff._ She sounded like a total flake, vapid and aloof and not at all herself. She turned toward her friend, but this just made Ben nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck. It was giving her chills, the things he was doing with his mouth, and she wished he would stop. Almost.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked. His eyes were wide and he looked like he’d just been handed warm dog shit.

“Uh–”

Ben detached himself noisily from her neck and propped his chin on her shoulder. “Just letting Gener–...Mother know our intentions.” His voice was silky and awful and Rey didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smirking again. “All inter-officer relationships have to be reported.”

“You’re not an officer,” Rey muttered, squeaking when he ducked and bit her shoulder.

Finn watched this with a face that was slowly morphing from disgusted to appalled. “Rey, you? And him? Seriously?” He sounded hurt, and she couldn’t blame him. Not with the ugly scar on his back that marked him from hip to shoulder.

Rey didn’t like lying, not to her most important person. And Finn was the most important person to her on this entire planet. But General Organa had asked for her help. And she wanted to help, even if her son didn’t deserve it and was the actual worst. She owed her that much after all the Resistance had done for her.

“Mmm-hmm,” was all she managed, and she promised herself she’d tell him the truth at her first chance. 

Ben turned his mouth into her ear and whispered absurdly loud, “Let’s get out of here.”

It was the only sane thing he’d said in the last few minutes and she still hated him for it, how he said it in a way that had her trying to remember any dark corners they could duck into. She tugged him down the hall by his hand and shot an apologetic glance over her shoulder at Finn. She hoped he wouldn’t hate her long enough for her to explain.

Once they rounded the corner she rounded on him. But he slung another one of those long, strong, stupid arms around her waist and turned her even further, bumping her back up against the wall. His other hand planted on the wall next to her head and he leaned in close.

“What are you doing?” she spat in a furious whisper. “What was all that?” She motioned vaguely in the direction that they’d come, where Finn was probably still standing, hurt and confused.

“Playing my part, sweetheart.” He bumped his forehead against hers and his nose brushed her nose. Her mouth fell open and she could feel her breath fanning against his face. He was close, he was so very close to her. Close enough that she now knew that he smelled like motor oil and something oddly floral. Close enough to see that the scar she’d given him had sliced through one of the dark freckles on his cheek, bleaching half of the thing to a light, pinkish-brown. 

He licked his lips again, as he had in the office, and wouldn’t look anywhere but at her open mouth. Would he kiss her? She thought he might, if the scene outside the General’s office was anything to go by. She found herself shifting, readying herself for the contact. This didn’t make sense. Did she want him to kiss her?

“This isn’t in the script, buckethead.” Her voice didn’t sound right. She’d said the words she’d meant, but they came out all wrong. She sounded flustered, of all things. She sounded weak, weak for _him,_ and she really didn’t like that.

He growled, baring his teeth. They were crooked. “I like it when you talk dirty.”

She bumped her lips against his then, not sure why she did, and not sure why she’d waited so long to, either. But he teased her, nibbling and nipping and only barely kissing her, his eyes open and looking right into her. This didn’t feel like pretend. This felt like something else entirely, and she wasn’t sure how she’d arrived here. What had happened in the space between his mean, assessing perusal of her in Leia’s office to now, with her crowded up against the wall and him giving her half kisses, his eyes wide open and just _watching_ her. 

Then she heard the crowd of people pass, and she realized. He kissed the corner of her open mouth, his tongue flitting briefly inside, then pulled away once they’d passed. Rey felt suddenly cold and almost like she’d float away without his big hands on her. Like all the air had been drawn out of her.

But he looked fine. Totally unaffected. He straightened and wiped the corner of his mouth and rolled his shoulders. “I’m going to my room. I’ll find you at dinner.” He tweaked her cheek. “Don’t bother saving me a seat; we’ll just share.”

And he was gone. He was gone and he’d made fun of her and she’d _wanted_ him to kiss her. She’d felt something, wanted something, and he’d…

This was already confusing and they were only a few yards away from the office where they’d agreed to it. Rey didn’t want dinner. She wasn’t at all hungry. She wanted to find Finn and talk this over, tell him the truth.

Though she wasn’t so sure of the truth herself, now.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to SouthSideStory for betaing this silly little thing. Love you, honeybun.

Ben Solo was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble. He wished he could say it was some diabolical plan he had decided on as soon as he agreed to this ridiculous farce, but as soon as he had seen the traitor-- _no, Finn. Ben Solo was a traitor now, too--_ he’d just acted on pure, disgusting, territorial instinct. Hauling the scavenger up against his body was the only thing he could do, he reasoned. It was the first thought that came into his mind. 

Finn had seen them. Finn needed to know how things were now--how they were to seem to be.

And then Ben’s mouth had been on her neck.

Ben collected some water from the running tap in his hands and splashed it on his face. He hoped the blast of cold would ground him, get his head out of the clouds. But all he could think of was the way she smelled when he’d pulled her up against him.

He didn’t realize that he had cataloged this bit of her away when he’d lifted her into his arms on Takodana. But with his nose in her hair and his lips on her skin, he had recognized how tightly he’d grasped it, how acutely he associated this sweet smell of dry herbs and hot bread and not quite clean hair with Rey. He hadn’t been acting when he nuzzled into her neck. He wanted more of this scent he’d forgotten and then achingly remembered. She smelled like rations that could keep for weeks, like hot earth and scarce water. He wanted to take her hair down and bury his face in it. He wanted--

He shut the water off with a hard swipe of his hand, scrubbing his face dry with a rough towel.

This was a disaster. When Leia had suggested this cozy little arrangement, he’d fought against it for one reason only: he wouldn’t be pretending. It was a nauseatingly romantic notion that he’d done the things he’d done--kill Snoke, chop off the heads of the creature that was the First Order, apologize to his mother--for Rey and her approval. He’d never admit to it, and even if he did, no one would believe him. Monsters like him didn’t throw off their evil ways so a girl might give him a second look. But it was true; all of it. He was Ben Solo because Rey would never accept Kylo Ren.

_Rey._

He thought again of how she had hauled him off after his display in front of Finn. He had acted on that instinct again--foolishly male and so like his father he could almost hear his mocking chuckle--when he crowded her against that wall. Finn wasn’t around to see--he didn’t have to make a statement anymore.

However.

He’d bumped her forehead with his and, Maker help him, she panted hot, open mouth breaths across his face. What was the matterwith him, that some girl from a backwater planet was able to undo him by just _breathing_ on him? 

It wouldn’t do for her to know, for her to figure out that just the feel of her slight body against him was enough to lay him completely at her mercy. He was in big trouble and he needed to watch his damn step. He’d almost lost it all for this girl before, and he couldn’t lose it again. She’d slashed his face the last time, and that was a mercy. He remembered how she’d faltered that step, and not leaned into the strike entirely. She’d only leave him for dead again, if he gave her half the chance. Ben Solo or not.

But she’d leaned in for that kiss-- _she leaned in. **She** did. And kriff she was just the right size. Tall enough to kiss easily and often, but slight enough to toss around a bit. _ When she leaned in for that kiss, he focused everything he had on not crushing his mouth onto hers. 

_She’s just lonely, flyboy. You know that. You’d never be good enough for Rey._

He hadn’t been able to resist a taste, however. Just a quick sampling of her lips before he lost himself to her completely. Then he’d run to his room like a frightened little padawan. 

A glance to the holoscreen on his wall told him that it was almost time to meet her in the mess. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to put on that cocksure facade and pretend like he didn’t ache every time she so much as looked at him. He schooled his features in the mirror that hung by his door, tugging at his too long hair, then running a finger down the scar on his face. He’d not let them remove it in the med bay after the destruction of _Starkiller_.

It was likely the only time that Rey would touch him in passion, and he didn’t want to simply wipe it from his face.

.

.

.

The mess hall was bright and boisterous when he entered. The people of the Resistance had much more to celebrate now that their greatest threat had been defeated. And, even though Ben Solo was the reason for their lightened spirits, the noise and conversation always seemed to dim when he entered a room. It had been months, and yet people still averted their eyes and whispered in hushed tones as he passed.

He could ignore it well enough. No one had ever particularly liked him to begin with.

He found Rey easily. She was the first thing his eyes sought out in every room he ever entered, even if he never let his feet follow his gaze. She was laughing, smiling so wide that her pretty face was mostly teeth, and he felt a pang of jealousy. He’d never get to make her smile like that.

As if hearing his thoughts, she glanced up towards him. The smile on her face faltered, then fell away, her eyes wary as she watched him walk to their table. The room was getting quieter, everyone seeming to watch what he might do next. It was true that he never ate in the mess with the others, and he was sure his focus on Rey made more than a few people uneasy.

Conversation at her table dwindled to nothing as they all turned their attention to him, but Ben could look nowhere but at Rey. He twisted his lips into that smirk that tended to make her cheeks pink and ducked down to kiss her temple. 

“You didn’t wait for me?” He spoke loud enough for others to hear, but he directed the small rebuke to her alone. The others could all go jump in a lake. 

She looked up into his face, surprise and confusion and worry all present in the creases around her eyes. “Uh--”

Ben shrugged, smiling lazily at her. “‘s fine.”

He caught her up easily into his arms, a forearm beneath her knees and the other about her back. She gave a little squeak of surprise as he so effortlessly moved her where he wanted her to be, and he sat down in her seat, arranging her primly on his lap.

She was eye to eye to him now, one hand still lightly pressed into his chest where she’d braced herself when he’d scooped her up. Her lips were slightly parted, and it would be so easy to just lean forward and kiss her. Really kiss her, like he’d wanted to do earlier. Like he’d wanted to do since the moment she’d shot at him on Takodana.

Instead, he kissed the tip of her perfectly pointy little nose, if for no other reason than to completely flabbergast her. If her rapidly blinking eyes and steadily flushing cheeks were anything to go by, he’d say that he succeeded.

The silence of the table was broken by a lone, incredulous bark of laughter. 

Ben reluctantly tore his eyes from Rey’s face and looked to the man across the table with bored, challenging eyes.

Poe Dameron didn’t even flinch. 

“Okay,” he said with another burst of laughter. “Okay, what the fuck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I am on a super roll on this. Be expecting several updates here shortly!
> 
> Please take a moment to tell me what you think! I am having a blast writing on this and I would love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to SouthSideStory for being so instrumental in helping me through this. <3

Rey barely heard Poe as she stared blankly at Ben. What had just happened? Ben had walked straight up to her, kissed her hairline in the most gentle, intimate manner that she had ever been touched in her life, then picked her up, put her in his lap, and kissed her again!

Kissed her on her nose, but the point still stood. What in the hell was the brooding Ben Solo doing kissing her nose?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Poe clearing his throat, and she finally managed to drag her eyes from Ben’s strange but frustratingly alluring profile.

Poe raised his eyebrows, his previous question still hanging in the air between them. 

_Okay, what the fuck?_

Rey honestly didn’t know, but if she didn’t say something soon, Ben was bound to fill in the silence with an explanation she was sure to not like.

“Um,” she started, her voice sounding oddly high-pitched. Ben shifted beneath her, and she blurted the rest before he could finish her thought. “It just sort of happened!”

There was a beat of silence and Rey had to bite back her groan of embarrassment. 

“What just sort of happened?” Poe prompted.

Rey glanced back at Ben, and he raised his brows, inclining his head as if inviting her to continue with this brilliant explanation. 

“Us,” Rey whispered, still looking in Ben’s eyes. His hands that were settled on her hips tightened as she watched his eyes dilate as he gazed at her. And he was gazing. Looking right into her. That look was far above and beyond the call of duty. She blinked, attempting to break the spell.

She looked back to Poe. “Me and Ben.”

There was a frown between Poe’s heavy brows. “You and _Ben._ You’re...a couple?”

Rey glanced to Finn, hoping for a little back up. She’d been able to track him down after the scene Ben had caused outside the general’s office and explain to Finn what he’d seen.

Finn had listened to her, but he did not seem to approve of it, nor did he trust Ben’s intentions, which he voiced very strongly and repeatedly as they’d made their way to the mess.

_“He looked like he was going to swallow you whole, Rey. I don’t trust that look.”_

“Yeah,” was Finn’s bland addition. “A couple. Rey told me about it this afternoon when I caught Ren licking her neck.”

No one missed Finn’s use of Ben’s former name. Finn glanced from Rey to the man holding her in his lap, then focused his eyes on his plate of food.

“A couple,” Poe repeated again, his eyes on Rey as if waiting for her to dispute it. 

“You jealous, Dameron?” One of Ben’s hands came up to brush Rey’s hair off her shoulder and run the pad of his thumb down her neck and back up to the sensitive bit of skin behind her ear. The motion startled Rey, and she was having a hard time not squirming on his lap. The hand that still rested on her hip tightened. 

Poe carefully watched Ben stroking her neck. “You’re not really my type, Ben.”

Jessika snorted, but the noise died in her throat when Ben bent to kiss where Rey’s neck sloped down into her shoulder. The woman cleared her throat and asked, “So, um, how’d it happen?”

Rey wished she could shrug Ben off. He was laying it on so thick with the kisses and caresses, and she was more than a little warm as a result. His lips were hot and soft, and she didn’t appreciate how his kisses made her feel.

Rey opened her mouth to respond, but Ben spoke first. “Rey fixed my speeder.”

Her mouth closed with an almost audible clack. She turned to look at him, but he only glanced at her before looking to Jess. “I’m a pretty good mechanic, but only when I’m dealing with factory parts. Rey can make something out of thirty bits of nothing, and I asked her to help me. She got that speeder working better than when it was new and I just…knew I had to find a way to keep her.”

Rey’s heart was hammering in her chest. That wasn’t a story. She’d actually fixed his speeder with parts discarded from everything from droids to a clothes washing machine. It had been a fun challenge, and she appreciated Ben’s trust in her to use whatever scrap she wanted to complete the job. He’d watched her every move and when she was done, had said little more than, “Not bad.” 

She’d completely forgotten about the experience, in fact.

“She had this smear of grease on her cheek,” he said, tracing a finger over the skin beneath her eye.

Rey swallowed. That was true, too. She remembered because she’d smeared the grease into her eye when trying to wash it off later in her rooms. What was his game? Her fixing his speeder wasn’t exactly romantic. It was pretty tame for a start of a relationship and Rey couldn’t help thinking that she probably could have come up with something better.

“That’s...sweet,” Jessika said after a moment and Rey looked to her friend. She was smiling.

Rey glanced around, and even Poe seemed to have softened a bit at the story. Had Ben used a mind trick or something?

“Well,” Poe said, standing and brushing crumbs from his shirt. “It’s pretty weird, but whatever makes you happy, Rey.” He shot a glance to Ben. “You--” he started, all levity drained from his tone. “--had better keep in line. One peep out of Rey…”

He let the threat hang before them before picking up his tray and walking off. Finn followed silently after him, a defeated look on his face as he glanced back at Rey. The others left as well, and Rey looked down at her half-eaten tray of food. She was suddenly not hungry, a feeling she didn’t think she’d ever experienced before.

“Well, that went well,” Ben said as he squeezed her hip again. Rey sighed and clamored not too gracefully off his lap. She emptied her tray and stalked from the mess, fully aware that Ben was following her. He slung a heavy arm around her shoulders as they left and Rey grunted her frustration. She shrugged out of his grip and walked faster, hoping he’d get the hint.

He didn’t. 

Ben followed her all the way to her room, going so far as to follow her through her open door. She whirled on him.

“What? What do you want? Was that not enough for you, Ben?” She tugged off her jacket and pulled out the elastic that was holding back the top half of her hair. She threw these things on the dresser, knocking off her holopad in the process. “Stars, that was humiliating. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

“Not quite,” he muttered before tugging her back into his arms.

She gasped, and his lips followed the noise. No little peck this time, a nibbling taste that left her frustrated and unsated. This time, he pressed her body into his, a large hand splayed on the small of her back, the other cupping the base of her skull. And that soft mouth settled fully on hers.

Rey had never thought much about kissing. Her first had been a fellow scavenger under the hot Jakku sun. Lizz’s lips had been more chapped than hers, and the girl was too short for Rey to really get the angle right. Her next hadn’t been much of a choice, a merchant with alcohol on his breath and a cool tongue that sickeningly filled her mouth. She’d not wanted to kiss ever again after that. 

Her most recent had been Poe, a hot but quick peck during a particularly rowdy game of cards-turned-drinking game. It had been nice, the best of the three. Smooth lips and sweet breath and a gentle hand on her cheek.

But this. Ben was delving into her. This wasn’t kissing; this was taking, having, sharing. His tongue curled tickling over the roof of her mouth and his hot breath fanned over her cheek. She felt both weak and exhilarated, her hands coming up to fist in hair that was longer and prettier than her own. His lips were smooth and his hands so strong, so possessive. She was just barely on the ground, the tips of her toes not actually supporting that much weight, and she had the half mad thought of wrapping her legs around his waist.

Gods, oh _gods_. This was what she’d never known she was missing--and it was at the hands of Ben Solo. She moaned, and she swore she felt Ben smile against her lips.

There was a knock on her door and Rey fell away from Ben with an audible whoosh of air. She felt dizzy, off balance, and her eyes were wild when she turned to see Finn standing in her open doorway.

“The General wants to see you,” he said, his tone hard and flat. Rey swallowed convulsively, not sure if she was more nervous at the thought of another audience with Leia in General-mode, or at the look of hurt on her friend’s face. 

“Finn--” she started, but he looked over to Ben before she could say anything else.

“Both of you,” he said, glaring fiercely at Ben before walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to tell me what you thought! Your enthusiasm over this fic is giving me all kind of life, and I love love love reading your comments! Thank you so much!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another, a little bit sooner than planned! Needed a bit of a boost this weekend. Hope you enjoy! Thanks, as always, to SouthSideStory.

Ben Solo reached for Rey’s hand as they made a slow path to Leia’s office. It wasn’t out of the desire to show whomever might be passing that this extraordinary woman was his, or to further fluster the girl who seemed to have never had a proper kiss in her life. It was because his hand needed hers, so he reached for it. 

He’d felt like throwing something at Finn when he interrupted them. Ben had been moments from picking Rey up and carrying her to the bed. Not to seduce her, not to fuck her, but to simply lay with her and kiss her until she fell asleep. Did she realize the thoughts she projected to him when she was upset or overwhelmed? He thought not. He was almost certain that she’d not wanted him to see that sausage-fingered smuggler shove his tongue down her throat, or feel her utter surprise at the realization of how pleasurable a proper kiss could be. He was desperate to kiss her in every way she wanted, for as long as she needed. She was a precious thing that needed attentive kisses often, and he decided that she’d lived long enough without them.

 _Later,_ he thought. He assumed this meeting was to congratulate them both on a realistic performance so far--something that couldn’t take long. Then he’d coax her back to her room and onto her soft mattress.

Her hand in his squeezed him back, quickly, gently, and he felt a surge of hope. He knew that she must have him figured out by this point. He’d botched any chance at indifference when he’d told that story about his speeder. There was any number of dreamed-up stories he could have told--something bawdy like a sparring session that had ended with her on her back beneath him on the mat. But instead he’d chosen a true memory, the first moment where Rey had ever been soft in his presence.

She had been so excited about the project, mumbling something about her fear of becoming rusty in a world that didn’t need scavengers. And she’d been magic to watch. Long, nimble fingers that soldered and manipulated bits of parts he thought beyond use or function into something new and sturdy. When she neared completion, he was half tempted to tear the nearest droid apart with his bare hands just to watch her put it back together.

She’d smiled at him when she had finished, a small spreading of lips, but filled with genuine pleasure at a job done right. He’d been sorely tempted to wipe that grease from her cheek and ask her to stay for a cup of caf. But the smile had flickered from her lips and she left him alone in the garage.

It wasn’t the first time he’d known that he loved her, but it was the first time that he’d thought that she might like him. 

And then, kissing her in her room for no one’s benefit but his own--he couldn’t be more obvious if he’d pulled his heart from his chest and shown her where her name was written. He’d always been weak, impulsive, love-starved. He’d promised to keep a part of himself back, to protect himself from giving her total freedom to deliver or destroy him. With the taste of the fruit juice she’d drank with her dinner still sweet on his lips, he knew he’d failed in that endeavor. 

He lifted a hand to knock at Leia’s door, but she was already shouting for them to come in. Rey gently pulled her hand from his, and he didn’t realize until he flexed his fingers just how hard he had been gripping her.

“What the hell do you think you are doing, Ben Solo?” Leia’s voice was nearly strong enough to slam the door closed behind them.

Ben sighed and rolled out his neck. There was a certain comfort in this sort of consistency, an odd reassurance that some things never, ever changed. Leia Organa would always disapprove of her son, and would always question his motivations. 

“Evening, General,” he drawled.

“This is my fault, I suppose. I request that you appear friendly with my most liked pilot and you turn to groping her in public. I had no less than ten people come to me with concerns that you were up to your old tricks, controlling Rey through the Force, or worse! I don’t know what else to have expected from you but the worst possible variation of _friendly_.”

“General--” Rey began, and Ben turned surprised eyes on her at her attempt at a mollifying tone.

Leia didn’t notice. “Are you alright, Rey? I’m sorry for asking this of you, for putting you in this situation. I should have known better.”

Rey shook her head. “I’m fine.” She glanced to Ben, who couldn’t help but watch with intent interest. “It’s fine.”

It was Leia’s turn to shake her head, taking Rey’s hand in both of hers. “You should feel no obligation to continue with this farce. I know you only agreed to this because I asked you, but it’s obviously a half-baked idea that’s put you in an uncomfortable situation.”

“No, I--”

Ben held his breath. _No?_

“I don’t…” Rey swallowed, glancing again at Ben before, Force help him, _blushing._ “I don’t mind.”

Confusion, followed quickly by suspicion, clouded the general’s eyes. “You don’t _mind?_ ”

“I mean--” Rey pulled her hand from Leia’s and began pacing. Ben had long since stopped prowling about the room, unable to do anything but watch Rey and wait for her next words. “This is what relationships are supposed to be like in the beginning, right? Hot and heavy?”

Rey’s flush deepened. “Sorry, General. I didn’t mean--”

Leia took a step toward her but Rey waved her off. “It’s not like anyone would believe things if Ben were suddenly polite and courteous. He’s not--” Rey looked away from both of them, her voice strained. Ben felt like he couldn’t breathe. “He’s not upsetting me.”

Warmth flooded through his chest at the admission. It was hardly romantic, that the bar was set at whether he was upsetting her or not. But she didn’t want out. The general was giving her an option to back out of this arrangement and Rey appeared content to refuse it.

Leia stared long and hard at Rey, as if waiting for the girl to backpedal. Her lips pursed and she looked Rey from head to toe--then she turned on Ben. 

He knew that pursed mouth and those narrowed eyes. He’d spent over a decade away from the woman, but he knew what this look meant. Leia suspected he was up to something, and she was damn well going to find out what. He held her gaze because, for once, Ben Solo was innocent.

As innocent as using a false relationship to live out the pinings of a wasted heart could be.

After another long moment of Leia working Ben over, she slowly nodded. “Well, alright.” She turned back to Rey. “Don’t feel like you have to stick with this because of what you’ve said. You are free to break this off at any time, Rey.”

Rey nodded, but wouldn’t look Leia in the eye. There was a strange curl at the corner of the general’s lips--like a smile she didn’t want to let slip. She nodded curtly. “Dismissed.”

Ben released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and followed Rey to the door. 

“And Ben!” Leia said. Ben didn’t turn to her, but remained still, waiting. Rey’s hand hovered above the pad beside the door, but she didn’t press it. “Try to tone things down a bit, okay?”

Ben snorted. “Sure, Mom.”

The silence that followed his words was dense, palpable. Leia made a little noise behind him, something like a pained moan, and he surged forward to press Rey’s hand into the pad, opening the door before the general could say anything else. Before _he_ could say anything else.

Ben pushed roughly past Rey, his chest tight and his heart pounding. He’d not called Leia ‘Mom’ in years. Not since he was a boy. Not since the academy--

“Ben?” Rey whispered behind him, but he couldn’t face her right now, not when he felt like he couldn’t breathe without sobbing. He turned toward his room, all thoughts of picking up with Rey where they’d left off completely pushed from his mind. He needed to get away, now.

His ears were ringing so loudly that he didn’t notice Rey following after him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to tell me what you think! I love and obsessively reread all of y'all's comments. <3 <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your enthusiasm over this story! I am having a blast writing it, and I am so thrilled that y'all are enjoying reading it. Your thoughtful comments mean so much to me, and I cannot thank you enough.
> 
> Love to SouthSideStory for being the best beta.

Rey rushed after Ben as he pounded down the hallway. Something had happened back there in the general’s office. Something important. Rey was choking on the the waves of utter regret pouring off of Ben, and it was all she could do to keep up pace with him. 

He swiped open a door at the very end of a hallway she’d never been down before, and her heart faltered as she followed him through it.

The room had obviously been some sort of utility closet in a former life. The reek of disinfectant still clung to the air and an ancient collection of mops stood propped in one corner. A glance out a high, squat window confirmed that this room was on the very eastern edge of the base, far from anything except the now silent tarmac. The walls probably shook when the pilots were going through their training exercises. 

Along the far wall was a narrow cot that looked to have been salvaged from a freighter. There was a naked spigot high on the opposite wall, over little more than a drain in the duracrete floor. A low toilet with no walls to block the view from someone entering the cramped space. All lit by one small lamp over the cot.

It was worse than a prison cell.

“You live here?” Rey asked, her voice small in the close air. Ben whirled around, apparently unaware that she had followed him. 

“Rey--” he said, but his face was so twisted with something like pain that she barely heard him.

“This is where you live?” she asked again, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. There was nothing personal about it, no plants or trinkets or pictures. There were rations stacked on an overturned bucket and a bar of soap and toothbrush resting on the back of the small toilet. If not for the long, wavy black strand of hair still clinging to the soap, Rey would have no indication of who slept and bathed and ate in this room.

“Please go,” Ben asked, his voice louder now, but ragged about the edges. “Please, Rey I--”

She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave a man who looked on the verge of tears alone in an abandoned janitor’s closet. She stepped closer to him, her hands clasped in front of her to keep from reaching out to him. “What happened back there?”

Ben squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. His large hands raked through his hair and tugged sharply at his roots. He walked the few short paces away from her and plopped heavily on the creaking cot. “Nothing.”

Rey followed slowly after him, stopping to stand before him where he sat. They were almost the same height like this. “You’re a fantastic liar, Ben Solo, but right now you’re not even trying.”

He dropped his face in his hands, rubbing those wide palms into his eyes before looking up. 

Rey’s breath caught in her chest at the sight of him. He looked rumpled and bone tired, a sadness decades in the making written in the lines between his brows. She felt drawn to him, a magnet straining north, and as he sat up straighter she found herself moving to stand between his spread knees. 

He looked up into her face, bringing a hand to toy with the ends of her loose hair. “Sometimes it seems so easy,” he said, his voice just loud enough for a girl standing between his thighs to hear. “Like it would take nothing at all for things to go back to how they had been before I--before I left.”

He tugged on her hair, bringing her face a half an inch closer. “But then I see his face. I see the look of shock and pain, see that red blade over his shoulder, and I know I can’t ever be my mother’s son again.” 

Rey watched as a tear welled in those warm brown eyes, then make a slow track down the plane of his cheek. “I killed Han Solo because I thought that I had to, and any chance of going back to the way things were fell off that bridge with him.”

Rey didn’t know what to say. She had no idea how to gather the salvage of Ben Solo and make him whole again. “But you regret it,” she offered weakly. 

Ben laughed, tugging her hair again to bring her face to his and placing another one of those nonsense kisses on the tip of her nose. “Regret only keeps me up at night, sweetheart. It can’t bring back the dead.”

Rey pulled from his grasp and turned away, preparing to leave him to his misery. But he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her, for the second time that day, into his lap. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into her hair, and Rey was sure it was the first time she’d ever heard him say so. “Don’t go.”

Rey turned in his arms, looking into a face that bore honesty like a badge of shame. She understood now why he’d worn a mask for so long--there was goodness etched into his features that would always outshine his deeds, no matter how dark. A person would always question if he truly meant it, if only they saw this kind face.

She nodded her head, gently scraping her nail along the now dried track of salt on his cheek. “I’ll stay.”

Ben didn’t take his arms from around her as he awkwardly toed off his boots, though he did reach down to take hers off for her. Then he laid back onto a cot that hardly contained just him, and tucked Rey into this side. Her head rested on his chest, and she heard the rapid beat of a heart that had been drained of love. He did nothing but hold her, stroking her hair or the ridges of her spine, but Rey felt like this was the most intimate she had ever been with another person.

She felt herself dozing, and she knew that she should get up and make the long trek back to her own room. She felt Ben stir beneath her, as if he too knew she was considering leaving. His grip loosened, giving her the opportunity to make that choice, to go back to a bed that wasn’t cramped in a room that didn’t smell of bleach. 

But she reached over her head and flicked off the lone lamp instead, burrowing back down into the warmth of his body and giving in to sleep.

.

.

.

She ached when she woke, feeling the same as when she’d slept on a gritty, thin pallet inside her rusted AT-AT. It took her a moment to realize that Ben had crowded her against the hard stone wall sometime in the night, his front pressed into her back. She was both cold and and sweating, her front chilled where it pressed into the duracrete, and her back sweltering wherever Ben touched her.

Which was everywhere. He was unnecessarily huge to begin with, but in this cot, it was almost comical. 

Rey groaned. “Ugh. Next time we sleep in my bed.”

Rey bit her lip at the words, not at all sure where they’d come from or why she’d said them. This was not going to become a regular occurrence. She was just about to thank whatever god might be listening that Ben had slept through it when his hand at her hip tightened and he groaned into her tangled hair.

“If you say so, sweetheart.”

Heat bloomed over her face, and she immediately tried to extricate herself from the trench he’d stuffed her into. There was a sudden hiss of air behind her and she fell breathlessly still.

She could feel every place that he was pressed into her, but when she shifted, she felt a particular part of him more acutely.

 

He was hard; there was absolutely no mistaking that. She felt him, long and hot against the curve of her bottom. There was a rolling sensation in her chest as she licked her lips to speak.

“Ben--”

But before she could say anything further, he was up and out of the bed. Cool rushed over her damp skin and she shivered in his absence. She turned, seeing that his back was to her, but she didn’t miss him adjusting himself.

“You better hurry if you don’t want anyone to know you were out all night.” He nodded to the decrepit holoscreen next to the door. “The mess opens soon.”

Rey was kneeling on his bed, a sheet he’d pulled over them both at some point tangled about her knees. There were a million different things that were racing through her mind, but the loudest and brightest was the fact that she wanted him to come back to the bed. It didn’t make sense. It frightened her more than just about anything ever had, but there was warmth pooling in her belly and her skin felt too tight.

“Ben,” she tried again, but her voice was weaker, breathier. He turned to her, and the hard look on his face halted any more of her words.

“Just go, Rey.”

She could only nod, tugging on her shoes and sprinting through the door before it even opened all the way. The hallways were deserted, like he’d promised, but Rey couldn’t shake the feeling that she half-hoped someone would catch her, tangled hair, yesterday’s outfit and all. That they’d assume what had happened and whisper it to the others.

Maybe then, actually following through with what she suddenly realized she wanted would be less frightening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought! My heart stops every time I get a email notification for a comment--they truly make my day! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments on this fic so far. I am truly humbled by your response, and I am so excited to give you more! <3 <3
> 
> Thanks to SouthSideStory. I'm convinced she's my writing lucky charm.

His clothes smelled like her. That was the first thing that registered when she’d run from his room. His shirt was damp where their bodies had pressed together, and the smell was overwhelmingly _Rey._ He reluctantly changed out of yesterday’s clothes and lathered away any remainder of her scent under the cold spray of his sad little shower. 

She’d been afraid of him this morning. He’d woken, her hot little body tucked so tightly into his, and his entire body reacted. He’d breathed in that dry green scent of her and pure arousal flowed through every single one of his limbs.

And when she’d felt that arousal, she’d stiffened. Disgust lurched in his stomach and he roughy shut off the tap. He scrubbed his body with a rough towel until he was pink and raw all over. Of course she’d been frightened. It was one thing to enjoy some kissing with someone who knew a thing or two about it. It was something entirely different to let a monster inside her body.

Ben dressed in his dark charcoal clothes, plopping heavily down onto the cot to pull on his boots. The sudden movement stirred the air about the bed and Ben got another painful whiff of her. He turned, seeing the crumpled sheet she’d been wrapped in, and before he could stop himself, lifted the thing to his nose.

He breathed her in, a deep, pathetic lungful. He was such a creep.

He finished tying up his boots and stood, rolling out his shoulders and preparing to face another day in a place that barely tolerated him. 

His attention was drawn back to the cot, to the discarded sheet. He cursed his own weakness and he gathered it up, folding it neatly into a tight square. Keeping the smell of Rey’s skin tucked into its creases. He placed the thing on the high windowsill and finally made his way to breakfast.

.

.

.

Rey hadn’t made it to the mess by the time he’d arrived. In fact, the only person at her usual table was Finn. Ben groaned, half considering just walking back to his rooms to eat yet another protein portion, but others had already seen him. They were watching him, curious what he would do.

So he grabbed a cup of caf and a few slices of dry toast and sat down opposite of Finn.

The other man didn’t acknowledge him for a long while, and Ben half expected him to ignore him entirely when he finally spoke up.

“Rey wasn’t in her room this morning,” Finn said, not taking his eyes off the feed on his holopad he was lazily scrolling through.

Ben felt oddly guilty, though he had no reason to. They hadn’t done anything, and Finn was likely the only person that knew. “Yeah,” Ben answered tightly. “She was in my room.”

Finn did look up at that, his full lips set in a heavy line. Ben hadn’t seen his face often when he’d been a stormtrooper, but even back then, he’d not looked this grave.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re about, Ren.” Finn shut off his holo, setting it to the side and giving Ben his full attention. “You can walk around with the name your mother gave you on other people’s lips, but you and I both know that you are still Snoke’s creation and no one else’s.”

Ben felt a large, hard knot forming in his chest. Anger and shame and, worst of all, doubt solidifying into a rock behind his ribs. Finn knew the First Order better than anyone else on this base, save Ben, and he knew better what Ben had been like back then. He would be the most difficult, and therefore the most important, person on base to convince of his…

_Of his what?_

His return to the Light? Ben didn’t feel particularly Light, especially not after how Rey had left his room this morning. He wasn’t terribly different than he had been before, if he was honest with himself. The fact was, Ben Solo hadn’t had much of a walk to take in becoming Kylo Ren. The return trip wasn’t all that different. 

It was only the landmarks that changed. What ideas he was fighting for, and who was important. 

This time, Rey was important. And, after last night, apparently Leia was, too. It was a pretty shaky foundation to build a life on, but Ben had built castles on less in the past.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Ben said after the long moment of silence.

Finn laughed, but it was a hard sound. “Yes you are!”

Ben tugged at his still wet hair and sighed. “I mean, I’m not going to purposefully hurt her. I’m going to try my hardest not to! I care about her.”

This seemed to strike Finn voiceless for a moment and Ben felt almost like smiling. The other man’s eyes twitched to something over Ben’s shoulder, and he turned to look. Rey was walking in, her hair damp and her face freshly washed. The urge to smile grew and he couldn’t stop the small curving of his lips. Rey blushed when she caught his eyes on her, ducking her head and hurrying to the food queue.

Ben turned back to Finn, keeping his voice low. “Look, I don’t expect you to trust me. I don’t expect that from anyone, not anymore. But you’ve got to know that the reason I’m even here is because of her. I’m here because I didn’t want to do another thing that might cause her pain. You can take that or leave it, but it’s the truth.”

Finn didn’t respond to this, didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard him, but Ben guessed that was about what he deserved.

Rey joined them then, Jessika and another pilot close behind her. Rey chose the seat nearest Ben, and he moved a bit to give her room. Her tray was filled to the edge with one or two of just about everything offered on the breakfast menu, making Ben’s dry toast on a napkin look sad in comparison. Rey took a small bowl of scarlet scrambled eggs and a large pear and set it in front of Ben.

“You don’t eat enough,” she said simply, leaning to kiss the edge of his jaw and tuck into the rest of the mounds of food on her plate.

Ben felt like his skin was branded where she’d laid that soft kiss. This was for show. They were in front of others and so far it had only been him who had been public about his affections. She had to perform as well. He tried to convince himself that was all it was, because the alternative would give his desperate heart hope. 

He stared at her as she ate inelegant mouthfuls of food, purposefully, it seemed, avoiding his gaze. He finally reached for the extra fork laid on her tray and took a bite of the eggs.

He could taste that she’d melted a pad of butter on the usually bland things, and that gesture alone made him feel like he’d choke on his bite. Ben Solo didn’t deserve this gentleness. He didn’t deserve a moment of it. 

He ate the rest of his meal in silence, not looking at anyone, least of all Rey. He finished first and gathered his trash, ready to sprint out of this room and away from the starving girl who still managed to share her food. He’d only made it a few steps before she called out after him.

“Hey, Solo!”

The room quieted, waiting for what would happen next. He turned back to her, seeing her standing at her place at the table. 

“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

Now it was Ben’s turn to flush from his huge ears down into the neckline of his shirt.

“Y--yeah. Tonight.”

He left to the sounds of lewd _whoops_ and catcalls, not letting himself think for a moment what she might mean.

.

.

.

She meant being cramped up underneath her rickety old X-Wing, apparently. She’d handed him a sandwich when he’d walked into the mess after a long day of helping the defense committee wade through intelligence on the remains of the First Order, then looped her arm through his and dragged him backwards right back out of the room. There was more than one jeer at their abrupt exit, and he wondered if Rey knew what she was doing to her reputation.

“This isn’t what everyone thinks that we’re doing,” Ben said as he handed her a wrench.

She took the thing, expertly tightening the bolt without risking stripping it. “I don’t really care what they think we’re doing.”

Ben laughed at the idea. “You say that now, but there’s a reason I sleep at the edge of the base.” He adjusted the pan Rey was attaching back into place, aligning it more fully with the bolt holes. “There’s a lot of empty beds on this base because of me, Rey. No one is ever going to forget that, or let me forget it either.”

Rey made a grunting noise that he thought had nothing to do with winching the bolt that had misthreaded when she replaced it. 

“They hate me, Rey, and they’ll hate you too if you keep this up.”

She chucked the wrench and it clanged loudly against the nearby landing gear. “I’m not doing anything! I’m spending time with the person that bravely, if not stupidly, handed us the tools to dismantle the First Order. That’s it.”

Ben turned awkwardly to his side and grasped her chin in greasy fingers, turning her to look at him, not the underbelly of her ship. “Is that it, Rey? Truly?” He had to know. “Just spending time?”

It was dim in the hangar, even more so under the X-Wing, but he could see the shift in her eyes, the change of color in her cheeks. He shouldn’t dare to dream, not after what he’d done to the ones she loved. But there were a dozen little things, small gestures and kindnesses, that made his foolish heart think differently.

She didn’t answer him, only shifted on the gritty hangar floor and pressed her lips against his.

It was a sweet kiss, something small and direct in its intent. She brushed warm fingers down his cheek, and when she pulled back, all he could see was himself reflected in her eyes. His expression that of senseless hope, of utter yearning.

“Let’s finish up here,” she whispered. “I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to tell me what you thought! We've got another handful of chapters after this one...and pretty soon we'll earn that M-rating. Any and all feedback means the world to me!! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again so very much for your comments and love. I appreciate each and every one of you so very much. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
> 
> Thanks to SouthSideStory for all of her wonderful help.

Rey hadn’t asked Ben to come to her room, but his silently following her anyway sent a thrill through her. There was something thrumming beneath her skin, a nervous energy that she couldn’t place. She was anxious, anticipating something that she was too frightened to name. He stepped through the door with her, and she found herself looking about her room as if it were her first time seeing it.

There were too many plants, that was obvious. The windowsill was choked with them and smaller pots sat on almost any available surface. And it was a bit messy--her bed was unmade and there was a small pile of clothes in the chair near the window. But it was a nice room, much more spacious and welcoming than a converted closet adjacent to a military airbase runway. And her bed could comfortably fit two people.

She turned back to watch him look about her room as well, but his eyes were only on her. The space she always thought so roomy seemed suddenly crowded with this large man inside it. Rey swallowed, so unsure of what to do.

She had kissed him back in the garage, and she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to touch him, and have him touch her. But she didn’t know how to say any of that.

“I’m going to shower,” she said, sounding oddly breathless. She gestured to the ‘fresher, feeling so small under his gaze. “You could--”

\-- _join me. Join me, Ben._

She couldn’t say it. She wasn’t the kind of bold that invited a man into the shower with her. She wouldn’t know what to do with him once she got him there. She’d only just figured out what a proper kiss was supposed to feel like.

“You could stay,” she finished instead. _Coward._

Ben appeared to relax at her words, however, seeming just a hair less intimidating. “I’ll stay,” he said, and his words easy and comforting. 

_Good._ She’d shower, and he’d still be here when she got out. Something about that assurance made her throat constrict, her heart flutter. She coughed, trying to find her voice as she gestured over to the cupboard by her small dining table. “There’s, um--” _Kriff._ She couldn’t even finish a sentence around him. She was such a disaster. “There’s food, if you’re hungry.”

He smiled at her, a faint, frail thing, and she felt warmth wash over her as if she’d just laid back into a hot bath.

“I’ll be right back.”

She let out a long, shaking breath once safe inside the ‘fresher. Ben was in her rooms. He said he’d stay. She bit her knuckle as a ridiculous, giddy giggle escaped her throat. What was she doing? The man on the other side of that door was ten years older than her, not to mention literally everything else about him. Former apprentice to the leader of the First Order, Han Solo’s murderer and stars knew how many other people. Her head thumped back on the door as she struggled to breathe.

Ben was also the man who had worked tirelessly to tear down the First Order from the inside out, from the moment _Starkiller_ exploded into a fine dust. The man who killed his master--something Luke Skywalker even admitted was a feat beyond any he thought Ben capable. The man who brought all this to lay at his mother’s feet, fully expecting his own death to quickly follow it. He’d held the entire galaxy in his fist, but handed it all back, curious what the Light could offer instead.

That man was waiting for her on the other side of her ‘fresher door.

Rey shook herself and quickly undressed. She tried not to think about the fact that she was naked mere feet from Ben Solo, whether separated by a wall or not. She washed quickly, but thoroughly, using the soap Chewie had brought her. She didn’t have much left, but it was her favorite. It smelled like green things, flowering things, and if there was a better smell in the galaxy, she hadn’t yet found it.

Perhaps the smell of Ben Solo’s hair.

Rey groaned and shut off the tap, drying herself quickly before changing into...into what? Did she change into day clothes, or pajamas? Or, just underwear? Nothing at all?

She shook her head, her skin flushing flame-hot. Pajamas. A nice, happy medium. The tank that she wore over her loose linen pants showed off her arms and shoulders nicely, anyway. Then she took a fortifying breath and opened the door.

She hadn’t really known what to expect, but seeing Ben crouched before her small bookshelf wasn’t it. She’d salvaged the rusted thing from a freighter marked for scrapping, and it now held a sad collection of a dozen little nothings. Her rag doll she’d retrieved when she and Finn had last visited Jakku. Dried flowers. Interestingly bent bolts. The bag of flower seeds she’d plant as soon as she had a square of fertile earth of her own. 

She swallowed around the tough knot in her throat when she saw that he held something his hands. A scrap of coarse black fabric, scorched and stiff with blood. Ben was rubbing it contemplatively between his thumb and first finger. 

“It snagged on the hilt of my saber,” she said, and Ben’s head snapped to look at her. He stood, scrubbing at the back of his neck and glancing guiltily at the piece of Kylo Ren’s cowl that Rey had saved.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and placed the thing back on its shelf. “I shouldn’t have-- I can go.”

Ben made for the door but Rey rushed to stand in his way. “No, don’t. It’s fine. You said you’d stay.” She knew her words made her sound childish, maybe desperate. But she felt small and desperate right now, so it didn’t much matter.

Ben smiled again, and Rey realized that, somehow, his smiles always seemed so incredibly sad. Like the expression caused him pain. 

“Yeah, I did.” He reached a hand up to her, brushing the pad of a rough thumb along her collarbone. The sensation made her tremble.

Ben’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at her skin. “I think I need to shower, too,” he said, nodding to her clavicle. She glanced down and chuckled at the streak of grease his finger had left behind.

She swept out an arm towards the ‘fresher in invitation. “Be my guest.”

Ben only nodded before stepping around her and quickly into the other room. Rey chewed her lip as she watched the door close behind him. Once she heard the water start, she turned away, her skin oddly tight. She picked up the little messes in her room, straightened her bed, and wondered if she should pull out the bottle of Corellian whiskey that Poe had gotten her when she had led her first successful mission.

She had the somewhat dusty bottle in her hand when she heard the ‘fresher door slide open. She set it aside and turned back to Ben. Her heart lurched in her chest.

“I, uh, didn’t really think this through.”

He was standing there, his grease covered clothes balled in one hand and the other gripping a towel closed around his waist. Well, almost closed. It was just this side of too small and a long line of pale, muscular thigh was visible where it parted. Her eyes drifted up and she found herself swallowing as her eyes wandered over his chest. He was...he was huge. Much larger without his clothes on. Pectoral muscles the size the dinner plates in the mess and shoulders almost twice as broad as hers. Yards of pale skin crosshatched by paler scars.

Beautiful and terrifying.

“Rey?” 

Her eyes snapped to his face and she hoped her blatant ogling of him wasn’t too obvious. But the look on his face wasn’t smug, or even shy. He looked ashamed.

“I promise I’m not coming on to you.” His voice was strained but he didn’t look away from her. “I know stepping out of the shower in nothing but a towel is just about the sleaziest thing ever, but I promise I didn’t plan this. I wasn’t even thinking.”

_I wasn’t either,_ Rey thought.

He held up the clothes. “I could just--”

“No!” she said. “They’re filthy.”

She came and took the things out of his hand and dumped them into her own laundry hamper, as if that settled things. One glance back at him and she could see that it didn’t. 

She looked away and picked up the bottle of whiskey. “Do you want a drink?” Her voice was higher pitched, almost frantic. Ben walked over to where she stood, his bare feet making silent steps on the floor. 

“Rey.” His voice was warm, gentle. He took the bottle from her hand and set it on the table. “I’m not wearing any clothes.”

Rey swallowed again, not able to look him in the eyes. She instead focused on the swell of muscle between his shoulder and neck. “I--” She stopped, breathed. “I don’t mind.”

A soft snort answered her. “You said that before. The other day, to my mom? ‘I don’t mind.’” He knocked a knuckle under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “What does that mean? You don’t mind.”

Rey was trembling, hot and aching in places she wasn’t very familiar with. Places she wanted Ben Solo to show her. 

She had to say it, or it wouldn’t happen. He’d left the choice in her hands, and it was up to her to take it.

“It means,” she began, placing her hand on his that held his towel in place. Her voice was little more than a murmur, but she knew he could hear her. “It means that I want you, Ben.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to tell me your thoughts! I can't tell you how happy your comments make me! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks. We're earning our Mature rating this chapter. It's also about double the length of my usual chapters for this story, but I really want to think that you won't complain. Thank y'all so much for your kindness and enthusiasm so far. I adore you for it, and it really makes this process fun.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to SouthSideStory.

_I want you, Ben._

Rey wanted him. _Him._ Ben Solo. 

When was the last time someone wanted _him?_ Not the power his abilities could give them or the connections he’d been born into, just--him. If there had been a single being the whole of the galaxy, he didn’t remember them. Not right now, with this incredible woman looking up into his eyes.

Her hand shifted on his hip, her fingers fumbling to take the towel from his grasp. Rey’s eyes darted down when he laid his hand over hers.

“Rey,” he breathed.

When she looked back up at him, there was hurt glimmering in her eyes.

“Do you not want to?”

Her voice sounded so small.

He gripped the towel at his hip all the harder, but his other arm wrapped easily around her waist, hauling her off her feet and up against him. So close she had no choice but to lay cool hands on his bare chest else she crash right into him. Had he the use of his other hand, he’d grab hold of her chin and make her look at him, but under the circumstances he could only press his forehead into hers and pin her with his stare.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I want to.” His towel wasn’t doing a great job of disguising this fact as he pressed hard into her thigh. “I want to. I want to again and again until you scream for me.”

Her breath was coming in hot, panting gasps against his face and he couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to pull that towel aside, tug down her loose pants, and have her. Right here, spread out on the table like an offering. 

He shook his head, his nose bumping hers. “But not yet.”

Rey whined against him, and he couldn’t help it. He smiled, wide and wicked. Fuck, it felt so good to be wanted.

He set her gently down on her feet and walked toward the bed. He did take off the towel then, feeling the Force within the room pulse as Rey got a clear view of his backside. But he grabbed the green throw from the foot of her bed and wrapped it around his hips. This was large enough for him to secure with a knot--it was also large enough to arrange a few folds of fabric over his groin to preserve some fraction of his dignity.

When he turned back, he had to bite back another smile-- _since when had that become a compulsion?_ Rey did not look happy with him.

“Come here.”

She narrowed her eyes and didn’t move, that wide mouth drawing into a small, tight line.

He walked over to her and took her hands. “I said--” His voice darkened. “ _Come here._ ”

She followed him, though slowly, cautiously. He drew her closer to the bed, closer to him. “I’m going to take you to bed, Rey,” he promised in a low voice. Her face relaxed, that color rising again in her cheeks. He shifted her, directing her. “I’m going to lay you down, and I am going to kiss you for as long as I want.”

Her legs bumped the bed and he helped her to fall lightly onto the mattress. He rose over her, running his hand from her hip up over the taut plane of her belly, rucking up the hem of her shirt. “I’m going to take off all your clothes, darling.” The hem of her shirt was pulled a little higher and he ducked to catch her mouth in a quick, fire hot kiss. “I’m going to make you come.”

A shaky, breathy noise fluttered from her, and he dipped to taste it with a flick of his tongue against her lips. “Has anyone made you come before?”

She swallowed, shaking her head. A raw, masculine pride rippled over him, a sense of duty, and he groaned as he took her mouth with a full, deep kiss. Feverish and wet, vibrating pleasure sounds against her mouth which she met with her own. It was him who made a noise of protest when he pulled away, but he needed to say this while he still had words. While he still had any sense. He needed to say it so he would stick to it, hold himself accountable. If he didn’t, he had no idea what he might let himself do with the girl beneath him.

“And--” he was moving against her, his hips rocking of their own accord as his hands raked up her body. She looked as wild as he felt, and he wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to keep him at his word, either. He swallowed, his voice low and embarrassingly graveled when he spoke again. “After all of that, we can take off this ridiculous looking green blanket. If you still want to.”

Her eyes drifted down to the throw he mentioned, and a timid smile trembled on her lips. “It’s not ridiculous.”

Ben scoffed. “It isn’t?”

She looked back up to him, bringing quivering fingers to brush along his neck. “I like green. It’s my favorite color.”

Ben nodded gravely. “I’ll remember that.”

Her mouth was warm and sweet when he brought his lips to hers again. The night stretched out before him and he didn’t know if he’d be able to bring himself to do anything but this. It felt so good to kiss her, slow and deep and thorough. Her wide mouth accommodated his in a way that made his head swim. He knew people weren’t engineered for the other, but were he a dreamer, he’d consider himself made for her.

The noises of contentment she made curled heat up his spine, and he found their kisses evolving. He rested more of his weight on her, dragged fingers roughly up her sides and over the outer curve of her breasts. He tugged at her lips with his teeth, pulling back so he could see them swollen and flush pink. He kissed her neck, his hands raking back down to catch the hem of her shirt and tug it up over her head. 

A pained noise groaned from him at the sight of her, small and hard, so very strong. He cupped a modest breast in his palm, his large hand spanning well over half her chest. She gasped, half a laugh shaking her as he gently kneaded her flesh. It was the most erotic noise he’d ever heard, and he wanted to hear it again. He scraped his teeth down her neck then settled his mouth over her other breast. He was nearly able to take her entirely into his mouth as he laved the flat of his tongue over her nipple. She arched, that gasping giggle ruffling his hair.

He ground his hips down into the mattress, willing himself to calm. Every new sound she made, every involuntary twitch of her body was the sexiest thing he’d been witness to. He felt like he would spill just listening to her alone.

“Ben.”

He groaned against her chest, dragging his mouth to her other breast, gently plucking at her nipple with his teeth. His hand kneaded the slickened skin of the breast he’d released, while his other stroked down the subtle curve of her waist.

His hand shook as he tugged down her loose pants, her underwear catching on his fingertips. He couldn’t remember the last time his hands shook, regardless of whether he’d been holding a saber or a subordinate’s throat. But here, with the last of Rey’s clothes crumpled in his fist as he yanked them down her thighs, he was absolutely quaking.

He wanted to make her feel good. He wanted to make her come so hard she would forget who it was she was letting touch her body. Forget what he was and just feel. 

He dragged his mouth down her body, her skin growing damp and tasting of the sweat her thundering heart caused. He kissed every new inch of skin he encountered, tucking each taste away for when he’d be alone in his own hard, narrow bed. 

She whimpered when he scraped his teeth over her hipbone. She gasped when he tasted the dip of her navel. She practically purred when his kissed her inner thigh. He’d remember this, every moment, every reaction. 

When her thighs fell open for him, he was half blind with needing to taste her. He should have eased her into the sensation, kissed his way to full contact. But the amber smell of her, the heat, drove sense from his head. He delved into her, gathering her wet on his tongue and swallowing it down. She jerked, half shrieked, and he forced himself to pull away.

“Are you--”

Her hand tangled in his hair and she tugged him back flush against her. 

_Very well._

His hands grasped her narrow hips and he angled her easily for him. And then he took her. Deep and slick, he made almost as much noise as she did as he consumed her. His tongue laved over her entrance, dipped gently inside her, then dragged up to stroke firmly over that point of sensitivity at the cusp of her. She trembled when he sucked her there, so he stayed, circling and lapping just to hear her sob. 

His finger slid easily into her-- _she was so achingly wet_ \--and he curled it over that swollen, textured bit of flesh inside her.

“Ben!” Her voice was more breath than sound, and he knew he’d never be satisfied hearing it spoken such just the once. His hand crushed at her hip, holding her in place as he relentlessly, endlessly _took._ Stroked his finger through her, again and again, worried her sensitive bud with his lips. 

He wanted to draw it out, make this last longer, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to keep a single thing from her, least of all her pleasure. He gave her another finger, pressing up into her body with more insistence, and braced for her release.

She jolted beneath him when it broke over her, but he kept his mouth on her. She wouldn’t go through this alone. She’d be touched and held and stroked through every moment of it because anything less wouldn’t suit him. He brought her here, and he’d be damned if he left her to it.

She made noises he wondered if others in the base could hear, loud and long. He wanted her to be even louder, to let go so thoroughly that the walls fell down around them. Next time, maybe, if she’d let him.

Rey tugged weakly at his hair, and he took a small mercy on her, pulling his swollen lips from her sex. He kept his fingers in place, however, lightly pressing to draw out every possible tremor, as he looked up over her body.

She was breathtaking. Her chest heaved and her skin was shining with sweat. Her hands shook violently as she alternated between grabbing the rumpled bedclothes or her own tangled hair. Spent and senseless. Perfect.

“Rey--”

“Kiss me.” Her voice made him wince, hoarse and ragged. But he obeyed, surging up over her body.

He pressed hot, still slick lips against hers and she kissed him back with a wildness that made his throat ache. Wrapped her arms around his neck and held him so close their teeth ground together. 

It was sloppy, unpracticed--and therefore perfect.

“Rey.” He couldn’t miss her shiver when he breathed the word over her skin. 

“I’ve never had anyone say my name like that,” she whispered.

“Like what?” he asked with a small laugh. “Like I’d be fine with never saying another thing in my entire life?”

She stiffened slightly beneath him and he squeezed his eyes shut. _Stupid._

“Ben--”

“Shh…” He silenced her with another kiss. He wouldn’t ruin this. Not yet, please not yet.

Their kisses grew shorter and farther apart, his body heavy and half pinning hers. It was a lazy, comforting thing, and Ben wouldn’t change a moment.

Rey stirred however, her hand reaching for the knot at his hips. 

“Rey--” 

“Take it off.”

Her hard little voice shook him, squeezed tight in his chest. But he forced this feeling down, willed himself to smirk at her.

“Well, aren’t you eager?”

She ignored the bait. “Don’t tease me, Ben. Take this off. Now.”

He swallowed, wanting to argue this further but the look on her face told him that that would be a mistake. He laid his hand over hers and undid the blanket.

He watched her face as it fell away, but her gaze was decidedly lower. A crease etched her skin between her brows, the same furrow that appeared when she was reasoning out a puzzle, or repairing a speeder. It smoothed away as she wrapped cool fingers around his cock, her eyes widening in an understanding that was all her own. 

Ben shuddered as she stroked over him. It felt too good; he had to close his eyes and take a steadying breath. 

“Oh, _Force._ ”

“Is it alright?” Her voice prompted him to open his eyes, and he wished he hadn’t. She was so beautiful, freshly loved and determined. He stilled her hand. 

“It’s too good, Rey. You’re going to make me--” He stopped, considering. “Unless that’s what you want. I don’t have to--”

“Like hell you don’t,” she muttered, pushing him roughly onto his back. He had little time to consider things before she was swinging a long, slender leg over him. 

She had him in hand, rubbing him through her slick heat. He arched his neck, the back of his head grinding down into the mattress. “Rey, wait, you're--”

But she had him there, lowered herself down, took him in a motion, slick and tight, that left him breathless. 

She gasped on top of him, her hands braced on his chest. 

He half sat up, only jarring their joined bodies more. He couldn't read the look on her face. 

“Does it hurt?”

Her eyes snapped to his, confusion morphing that faraway expression. “No.” She bit her lip. “Should it?”

A breath of relief rushed from him, and he leaned forward, catching her mouth in a kiss. “No,” he said, bending his knees and bringing a hand to rest between her shoulderblades. “No, it shouldn’t.”

She rocked experimentally on him, her eyelids fluttering. “You’re big.”

His lips twitched. “You’re small.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, rolling her hips with more purpose and drawing a pained moan from him. 

“Good?” she asked, sounding excited.

“Very good,” he breathed. “Keep going.”

She wrapped her arms loosely about his neck and fell into a clumsy rhythm. He met her movements, taking cues from her body. Her eyes alternated from watching where they were joined and searching his face. Lips parted and cheeks flush, she made little sighing noises every time she settled into him. It felt amazing, having her body around his, her holding his pleasure. 

But soon, that little crease between her brows appeared again.

“What is it?” he asked, his breath short from willing himself steady.

“I need--” She bit her lips, her voice higher pitched as she concentrated. “I need more.”

He had her on her back in a moment, one of her legs caught high on his abdomen. Already the angle had her back arching and he caught her wrists in his hands. Ben kissed one palm before leading her hand to her center. “Touch yourself, sweetheart.”

Then he kissed the other palm, and stretched her arm up above her head, till her fingers brushed the bars of her headboard. “And hold on.”

He wasn’t gentle with her, not when she needed _more_. He arched into her in long, deep strokes, hands gripping her hips and her circling fingers occasionally brushing his skin as he moved. He felt her walls clenching, felt the difference immediately, and only gave her more, faster, deeper. 

This was how loud he wanted her to be, a continuous cry that was punctuated by his body slamming into hers. He was far from silent, a roar building in him from the arches of his feet. Their skin was slick, their breaths mingling in hot blasts. He only let go when she did, when her hand released the headboard and wrapped possessively about his throat. Only when she screamed, eyes shut and teeth bared, did he follow her down. Spilling hot and deep before all but collapsing beside her, the only sound in the room their labored breathing.

Rey giggled through her ragged breaths. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be like that.”

Ben groaned and pulled her limp, sated body into his. “I didn’t either, sweetheart.”

Rey made a pretty noise, turning to him and kissing his mouth, a bit wet and off-center. He would never get used to that, to her kissing _him._

“When can we do it again?” she asked, a giddy lilt to her words.

His heart couldn’t take this. He couldn’t bear this hoping, this almost-promise of something. She had no idea what she was doing to him. “You’re going to have to give me a minute, kid,” he chuckled, trying to keep his tone light. “Maybe in the morning, if you’d let me stay.”

She sat up, staring down at him like he was speaking Huttese. 

_He shouldn’t have hoped._

“Of course you’re going to stay!” she said instead. She flicked his ear. “What do you think this is?”

_I honestly don’t have a fucking clue,_ was all he could think. This was not remotely what Leia had requested of her. Rey had no need to...care about him? He shook his head, refusing to think.

“I’m staying, then,” he said, tugging her back down to him. She snuggled far too easily onto his chest. Rey sighed contentedly and Ben had to blink against the sudden tightening of his throat. He wanted to know what they were doing, what she wanted from him. He wanted to know if they were still pretending or if he could finally come clean.

He’d worn a mask for so many years, he should be comfortable hiding behind a ruse. But he wasn’t, not with Rey. He’d taken off that helm for her once before, and he swore he’d never put it back on.

She snuffled sleepily against him, and he reached for the green blanket, pulling it over them both. The lights were still on, but her holopad was across the room and he’d be damned if he let go of this girl for anything less than an air raid siren. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to tell me your thoughts. Any and all, I love every comment I get. Thanks so much!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of you. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks as always to SouthSideStory, and to politicalmamaduck for giving this chapter some extra love!

Rey woke a few hours later wedged almost entirely beneath a sleeping Ben Solo. She knew she should be annoyed by this, especially after having only slept alone her entire life, but something about his huge body covering hers, protecting her even in sleep, made her want to stay still and just...let him.

The lights were still on, however, and Rey wouldn’t be able to sleep much like that. She shifted enough to look out over the room for her holopad. She groaned softly, spotting it across the room on her dresser. She didn’t want to get up; she was warm and pleasantly compressed.

An idea occurred to her, and she extended a hand to the dresser. She tried to remember the scant lessons from Luke, the energy she’d felt most acutely on _Starkiller_. The holopad trembled, and she focused on the Force around it, around her. The thing moved slowly toward her, then dipped precariously low once it was free of the dresser. Her hand twitched and it shot the rest of the way across the room, smacking painfully into her palm.

“You know that’s not really what you’re supposed to use that for, yeah?”

Ben’s voice was right at her ear, his voice rumbling low in his chest. 

She felt herself color as she set down the holopad. Had he seen her pitiful hold on the Force? Her lessons with Luke--just Luke, not Master Luke--had been very short lived. It was obvious that he was still affected by his academy’s destruction, and that Rey’s control over the Force could only be coaxed through fear or stress reminded him too closely of his nephew.

Rey wasn’t sure Luke and Ben had even spoken yet.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured.

He didn’t shift from on top of her and she found this oddly sweet. He kissed the top of her head, then tapped about on her pad to dim the lights to a low, comfortable glow. Then he slid his hand down the outside of her still outstretched arm, cupping the back of her hand in his wide palm.

Ben moved them, aiming their hands towards the rusted canteen that also lay on her dresser. Rey felt the surge around her, a soft, warm shift that felt as controlled as an exhale. The canteen glided smoothly into her palm, and Ben closed her fingers around it.

“I could still teach you,” he said. He sounded as if he’d wanted to say more, but left this simple offer as it was. 

This was the first she’d seen him use the Force since he’d re-joined their side. She hadn’t known if he abstained out of respect for those who were frightened around him, or if it was rather because something had stunted his capabilities.

She set the canteen aside, that question deftly answered.

“I don’t know that I’m teachable,” she said, glad she couldn’t see his face.

He hummed against her, stroking a hand over her outer thigh. “They said the same about me.”

There was a heavy silence that followed as those words settled over them. Ben Solo wasn’t exactly a success story. 

“We had sex tonight,” Rey whispered when the quiet stretched too long. He began to shift off of her, and she missed him immediately. This wasn’t the time for him to remove his anchor from her; she was afraid of drifting away. She’d kept this reality at a comfortable arm’s length since waking, but she couldn’t continue, and she needed his reassuring weight.

“We did,” he agreed.

Rey swallowed, turning to face him. The low lights made him softer, more indistinct. It made this conversation easier, though not easy.

“I guess--” she touched his chest, needing to feel a heartbeat when Ben didn’t seem quite real in the dim. “I suppose that changes things.”

Ben snorted. “Not for me.”

Rey felt as if her stomach had dropped from her. This hadn’t changed things for him? She felt like she was an entirely different woman, like her life would be measured by events that happened before this night, and events that happened after. Not because she’d slept with a man, but because that man was Ben Solo. Because of what sleeping with him had made her feel.

But if it didn’t mean the same for him--

“I’ve known for a very long time how I feel about you, Rey. Since before I took back this name.” His tone was low, tender. She couldn’t see where his eyes were looking. “What happened tonight--that was making love. For me, at least.”

Rey felt hot. Both relieved and adrift. She didn’t know what to do with this, not after his performance in Leia’s office that first day-- _I don’t see how holding hands with a scavenger is going to win me any favor here._ He’d known then? He’d known that he--

“Ben--” Her voice was choked, but she swallowed around the spasm in her throat. “It’s only been two days for me…”

That wasn’t true. It had been longer, likely longer than she would ever admit out loud-- _since before I took back this name_. But it had only been two days since she’d _let_ herself feel this, with the guise of a performance, a favor for the general, as her twisted security. An escape plan.

But nothing about tonight had been pretend, not her enjoyment of his company beneath her X-Wing, and not her satisfaction at his accommodating her body to his. 

He shifted, and she saw that his eyes watched hers. “I don’t care if it’s been two days or two minutes. If you’ve loved me for any amount of time, please tell me.”

She trembled, and he moved her beneath him again. His face was in shadow, only his dark outline to ground her. She could barely breathe; what was he saying? “Do you love me?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I have for months, years I think.”

_Had they even known of each other for years?_

She didn’t know if she could tell him, not when she’d only just begun to tell herself. Her hands shook as she placed them on his chest, his body bracketing her from all sides. He seemed so ready to shield her, and her entire being ached to love him.

But as unwavering as he seemed in his feelings toward her, he’d changed his mind about a great number of things in his life. He’d been two entirely different people in the short space of time she’d known him. Even within the last two days, he’d been cocky and vulnerable by turns, making her head spin. If he changed his mind about her she wouldn’t be able to survive it. She couldn’t be left behind again.

She swallowed, bringing him down for a kiss. He settled heavily on her, and she reveled in her strength, how she could hold his weight, and in the way he knew it. He understood her power, even in this. He tasted warm and sleepy, though she couldn’t quite pin down the exact taste of either. She spread her legs, holding him in the cradle of her hips. 

He made a noise against her lips, and kissed her deeper, ground himself down into her flesh. Ben laced his fingers through hers and pulled her arms far above her head, stretching her body in a luxurious, sensual way. She’d planned a quippy remark, something about whether his old man body was ready yet for another go. But as he rocked hot skin against slick, any levity she had deserted her.

She needed; she needed now. He seemed to understand, positioning and pushing steadily forward. She gasped and he paused, cupping his hand at the base of her skull to bring her close. 

“What is it?”

Rey bit her lip. “It hurts a bit now.”

He nodded. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

They began soft. This close to her body, she found that she didn’t need to reach between them to touch her center--his body ground against her in the sweetest way. She felt contained and yet so overwhelmed. This soft thing they shared quickly grew, evolved into something deep and hungry.

Rey found herself clinging to Ben, her arms and legs wound tightly around him, her teeth set in his shoulder. He must have known that she was crying, but he didn’t stop, only rocked into her body and whispered hushed things she could barely hear. 

“--got you, Rey. I won’t ever let you go, sweetheart--love you. Oh, Force, do I love you--”

She could only hold on, sobbing into his shoulder as pleasure broke her apart piece by piece. She didn’t have long to wait for him to join her, shuddering as he came within her. She knew she would shatter into a thousand pieces if he let her go, so when he shifted, she dug her nails into his skin.

“Don’t, Ben. Don't let go. Not yet.”

He shook his head, his face in her hair and his breath hot on her scalp. “Never. Wouldn't dream of it.”

She nodded, her grip loosening just a little. She was exhausted, sleepy and completely empty. She dozed off with their bodies still engaged, and dreamed of digging in hot damp soil. Her hand outstretched and Ben pouring the flower seeds from her tiny bag into her palm. 

.

.

.

Rey woke in the predawn gloom to Ben shaking her awake. “Rey, get up, I think--”

Before he could finish his words, the air raid siren blared. She stumbled out of bed, reaching for whatever clothes she could find while Ben was digging through her hamper for his clothes from the day before.

No explosions, no whine of ships overhead. Whomever it was hadn’t breached their shield, and Rey felt the smallest bit of relief. She grabbed her holopad, bringing up the security alert, and faltered. What relief she had felt evaporated from her. There was no way. 

“Ben, it’s--”

“I know,” he said. “I can feel them from a parsec away.”

This statement spiked dread through her. “Ben--”

But he wasn’t listening. He was tugging on his boots and using one of her hair ties to pull back his long hair. For a brief, absurd moment, all she could see was how large and protruding his ears were like this, and despite the chaos around them, she thought of tugging him down by them and kissing him. Snapping him out of this unnerving daze he’d been stepping through since they woke.

“Ben!”

He wouldn’t look at her-- _he wouldn’t look at her!_ \--and then he was gone.

Rey didn’t remember feeling this terrified in her entire life. She was stupidly standing in just her pants, staring out the open doorway Ben had sprinted through. The sound of others in the hallway roused her enough to reach for her other clothes--and her saber and her staff--and follow.

She stepped into bedlam. Other pilots from the wing were strapping on blasters, shouting confusing orders to others. There was nothing to gun down out of the sky, there was no training exercise for their base being infiltrated by foot, and only by a half dozen intruders.

There was death around her; she could taste it on the back of her tongue. The bodies that lay scattered grew denser the further she ran, shoving past others slower than her. Where was Ben? Where was he?

She ran headlong into Finn as she rounded a corner, a little dazed as her friend grabbed her arms and lightly shook her. “Rey, are you alright?”

Rey nodded, but she needed to go. She needed to find-- “Yes, I’m fine. Have you seen him?”

There was a darkness in Finn’s eyes and Rey ground her teeth to keep from panicking. 

“I haven’t,” he answered. “I’d hoped you had.”

Dread settled in her chest. 

There was a crash nearby and Finn released her as they turned to see Poe stumbling out of a hallway further down, blood smeared over half his face. “Go!” she shouted. “I’ll find you later!”

The majority of the stampede was heading in the direction of the control room. It was the most important place to secure on the base, but Rey felt instead drawn to the tarmac. She slammed through an outside door and was greeted by a blood-red dawn.

It might have appeared that the Knights of Ren had retreated in the maylay of the base coming awake. But Rey knew that this small knot of Dark that gathered a dozen yards from her had succeeded in what they aimed to achieve. They had drawn her out.

Rey reached for the staff at her back. Less lethal than the lightsaber, it was nevertheless the weapon with which she had the most training. She’d killed armored thugs with it in the past, even outnumbered six to one, and she had plans to do so again tonight.

She planted her feet and prepared to charge, to take the first swing.

That’s when she saw him. She heard the all too familiar clunk of a lightsaber ignited, then watched as he stepped from the middle of the mass of Knights.

It was a vision out of a nightmare. Kylo Ren, red saber in hand, pointing the sparking blade at her in an unmistakable promise. Her mouth went dry at the realization--everything was exactly the same: the mask, the cocking of his head, that tattered cowl. He’d seemed so remorseful when he’d seen that she had kept a piece of it, when he’d had the rest of the bloodstained garment in his possession the entire time.

Her stomach turned and she bared her teeth at him. She’d expected his abandonment, but never his utter betrayal.

She tossed aside her staff, taking up the saber at her hip. It washed her with blue light, and she held it far to the side to keep it from dilating her eyes too much, remembering one of the few lessons Luke had given her. She’d done this once before, and she could do it again. She was hurt enough, furious enough, to fight him. And this time she’d step fully into that swing, and slice his fucking head off.

“Rey!”

She barely heard the call over the roaring in her ears. His voice didn’t sound right--the modulator in his helm had always corrupted his voice into something clicking and liquid. But this oddly faraway cry sounded like Ben, _her_ Ben, the Ben who’d fallen asleep inside her, told her he loved her, and still donned this facade again. Or, perhaps, finally shed the facade of Ben Solo.

Tears stung her eyes as she lunged to kill the thing she’d almost let herself love.

She was pushed roughly aside, losing her footing, as a massive man wielding a bright yellow lightsaber stepped between her and Kylo Ren.

Perhaps she was dead, or she had hit her head in her fall to the side, because she couldn’t make sense of the scene before her.

Ben, Ben Solo with his hair pulled back and a lightsaber she didn’t recognise. Ben Solo, yellow blade locked with the violent red saber brandished by...by whom, if not him?

She didn’t have another moment to consider as Ben threw off her attacker, _his attacker_ , and the other Knights rushed to crowd around them. Rey scrambled to her feet, readying her blade and setting her back to Ben, joining this fight she didn’t quite understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment and let know your thoughts. Any thoughts. I love thoughts. And you. <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for remaining patient with me. The last two months have turned my world upside down and inside out, and honestly, this wonderful little story was the last thing on my mind. But I'm back, and it's finished. I hope this was worth the wait, and thank you, all of you, for sticking with me and loving this half as much as I did.

Ben didn’t have to guess what the look on Rey’s face had meant. She’d thought herself betrayed, and she meant to kill the one who had betrayed her. 

He was proud and regretful by turns. He admired her strength, her sense of loyalty and the knowledge that she deserved it. But her vengeance burning so close to the surface reminded him too starkly of his own demons. He didn’t want the same for her.

The imposter before him was skilled, and Ben felt he knew which of his former Knights had taken up the mantle. If his supposition was correct, then he and Rey were in for one hell of a fight. He had felt Rey tapping into the Force when she’d ignited her saber in anger, but his appearance beside her had thrown her. Her deadly accuracy was honed from extreme emotion, and now she was floundering.

“Stay with me, Rey!” he shouted over the melee. “Feel me behind you and move with me!”

This wasn’t how he’d wanted to teach her, but right now, she had to learn or die.

Ben moved forward, forcing the Knight in his discarded mask to retreat. Rey stepped with him, her leg smoothly following his and stepping down in the space he’d just vacated.

_Good. Good girl. Brace for a counterclockwise turn._

They swiveled easily, and Ben heard the familiar sound of a limp, heavy body crumpling to the ground. As he’d slashed out at the retreating Knight, she’d taken down one of her six. He bit his lip, knowing he shouldn't have expected anything less from his Rey. 

She fell into rhythm quickly, bolstering her strength with his, pressing against his back to push off their attackers. She was so good, she was so good at this. If he lived through this fight, he’d beg at her feet to let him train her. 

He knocked away the red saber of the imposter Kylo ren, a more difficult task than he’d anticipated. He remembered the feel of that saber in his hand, how the smaller cross blades and the unstable kyber crystal within made it much more difficult to wield. How much strength was needed to simply slash it through the air. He never considered how this added pull would make his strikes all the more grueling to defend. Rey had made it seem like nothing when they’d sparred in the snow. He threw his weight into defending another blow, Rey keeping with him through the movement. 

“Down!” she shouted, and he obeyed without hesitation. Ben felt the whoosh of air as the swing of a lance whistled harmlessly over his head. They stood, and Rey braced herself on his back again. He felt her kick, the huff of air released as her foot hit its mark, then the dull strike that took the fighter down. 

_Two._

Ben redoubled his efforts on the Knight before him. He’d been reserving his energy, working to tire his opponent through sheer stamina, but this was very decidedly not working. The new Lord Ren was becoming frantic, his swipes coming far too close to him, too close to Rey. He needed to break off, fight him one-to-one and finish this thing. But what if Rey--

The Knight got a hit in, brutally burning Ben’s forearm, an ache that resonated in his bones. He hissed, and he felt Rey stiffen behind him.

“Go!” Rey yelled above a garbled howl of pain as she implausibly took down another Knight. _Three._ Suddenly he could taste her rage as potent as if she’d poured it directly down his throat. That deadly meditation was cloaking itself around her again, though he was hesitant to consider why. Pain flamed up and down his arm and with it, the cloud around her thickened. Her fury unnerved him, but so long as she didn’t turn it on him, so be it. 

“I’ve got this, go!”

A near miss that would have cost him his hand spurred him from his reticence to leave her. He stepped away from Rey, tried not to panic at the absence of her hard body pressing into his, and whirled to face the leader of the Knights of Ren. 

His heart faltered. The creature was stepping around him, heading straight back to Rey. He raised that sparking saber and struck down, searing a wound over her left shoulder blade. Rey screamed.

Ben’s vision went dark. An inhuman noise ripped from him as he gathered the energy around the Knight and _pulled._ He had the thing at his feet in a second, arcing down with his blade. The Knight rolled nimbly away, but Ben stayed on him, slashing and jabbing erratically. He wasn’t causing as much harm as he should--he was losing sense as all he could hear was that anguished scream echoing in his head. He hadn’t seen her fall--had she fallen? Again and again he swiped at the thing scrambling away from him, but this yellow saber was too small, too kind. He couldn’t quite--

Like an animal cornered, the Knight slashed out from where he crouched. A white-hot pain blazed over Ben’s abdomen and he stumbled. The Knight regained his feet. Raised the saber that Ben had made in anger, and brought it down on him. 

_A just end for what had become of Ben Solo._

Then Rey was there. She kicked the Knight hard in the gut, throwing him off center just enough. And then, in a flash of blue light, she swung upward.

_She still didn’t step into that strike enough,_ Ben thought dazedly as he watched the Knight fall. Though her swipe into the mask he’d worn for so long did much more than irreparably scar the creature beneath it. Sparking blue residue gouged deep into the face of the being who thought to revive Kylo Ren, and he fell limply to the ground. 

Dead, the helm cleaved almost in two. 

Rey fell to her knees beside him. “Ben. Are you alright?”

She was tugging at his shirt and Ben looked wildly around. Surely not--

The remaining two Knights she had been fighting lay prone on the ground behind her. He stilled her hands as they tried to pull his undershirt from his waistband. “Rey, how did you--? _All_ of them?”

She laughed, pulling his shirt up and over his head, though the sight of his middle melted the grin from her face. “No,” she muttered as she pressed his shirt into the only half-cauterized wound. “The base caught on quickly. Blaster shots took them down. Kriff you’re bleeding so much.”

Ben shook his head, getting a good look at her trembling hands for the first time as they smeared red over his abdomen. “No, Rey--that’s not my blood.”

Her shoulder looked nearly black with blood and Ben convulsed where he lay. She was losing too much blood; he had to--

“The both of you stay still!” Leia screamed as she ran towards them. “Oh, good grief, what a mess,” she grumbled as she directed medics to get the two of them on the cots they carried with them. Ben’s vision was blurring and Rey was still half-pressing his shirt into the wound he couldn’t really feel.

“Rey--” he groaned, and she looked up, white and trembling and frightened. She swayed, her eyes fluttering.

“I love you,” he said as the world around them faded to black.

.

.

.

Ben woke in a room so white his first thought was that he’d fucked up and actually died. But, no, he couldn’t be dead. The soul of Ben Solo wouldn’t end up in a place so serene and clean as this. 

A face appeared above him, and he blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision.

“Dameron?” Ben asked, his voice raw and scratchy. 

The man ducked lower. “Yeah, flyboy. It’s me. How you feel?”

Ben grunted. “Like shit--”

Then everything hit him at once. Rey, the knights, the false Kylo Ren. Rey. Rey, Rey, Rey! Ben tried to sit up and Dameron pushed him back down to the bed, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t move.”

“Where is she?” Ben asked. His voice broke, weak without the use of his abdominal muscles to bolster his breath. “Where is Rey?”

“She’s right beside you, pal, not three feet away.”

Ben turned his head so fast it made his entire body ache. Rey, in a bed next to him, wires all over her and her face lax, still. Too still. 

“Rey!”

Dameron held him down more firmly. “She’s fine, just sleeping. Maker, stop fighting me or I’ll punch you in the gut!”

Ben ignored him, using borrowed strength he knew he’d pay for handsomely later. Medical equipment tumbled down around him, over the floor and his abandoned bed, dragged by the tubes and wires still attached to his body as he clambered over to Rey’s cot. He cupped her face between his battered hands, taking in the cuts and bruises he could see on her face and neck.

But her skin was warm, even if only a fraction of the fire hot her flesh usually blazed. Alive, his girl was alive, and sleeping so beautifully beneath his touch.

He felt hands on him, more than just Dameron, dragging him back to his bed.

“Lay down, you hulking idiot! You’re bleeding again.”

Ben turned, surprised to see concern on Finn’s face. “Finn,” he said stupidly.

“Ben,” Finn answered, his voice almost singsong and his expression a gentle mockery of Ben’s confusion. “Lay down, Solo. Rey’ll kill me if you die.”

Ben felt faint, sweat breaking over his skin and he decided it might be best to listen to the two men shepherding him back to bed. “Wake me up when she does. Please, Finn. Promise me.”

Finn looked at Ben as he settled back into the narrow cot, hard and serious. A droid beeped in the distance and Ben felt himself falling under a medicated cloud of exhaustion. “Please.”

Finn nodded, his lips still pursed. “I promise.”

Ben let himself fall under then, somehow knowing that he could trust Finn’s word.

.

.

.

Ben woke to a clatter that made his aching head throb.

“No, no, no! Stay in bed, for fuck’s sake--”

Then there was a _whump_ right next to him, followed by clutching hands and spindly limbs. “Better? ‘M in bed!”

Ben turned, seeing Rey tucking herself into his side, still attached monitor and bacta drips strewn in her wake behind her. He looked down, and she surged up, kissing the underside of his jaw, sweet and warm.

“Ben,” Finn deadpanned. “Rey’s awake.” 

Ben nodded absently, not able to look away from Rey’s upturned face. She looked thin and sleepy, the freckled skin beneath her eyes purple tinged.

“I dreamed you died,” she whispered, snuggling closer, ignoring Finn’s pleas that she get back in her own bed. “I dreamed you died and I didn’t get to tell you.”

Ben held her as close as he could, kissing the purple tinted freckles under her eyes. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I can’t go anywhere without you, not anymore.”

Rey clutched at him, grabbing and stroking, his face, his hair, his chest. Clumsy enough to disconnect more than one electrode on his body, sending the machines beside his bed into alerting shrieks. It was as if she had to feel for herself that he was here, alive, not dead.

“I love you,” she said quickly, like she might miss her chance otherwise. “For real, not pretend, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say so before, but I didn’t really know until--when that knight had your saber, and I thought you were going to--”

Ben kissed her, fierce and sweet. When he pulled back, her face was wavering before him, blurred by his own tears. “I love you, too. For real, not pretend. I’ve loved you for longer than what would probably make you happy.”

Ben heard a pained groan from the foot of his bed, and turned to see Dameron--and Finn and his mother and the gaggle of Rey’s friends and some officers and a few pilots and, very far in the back, medics who had no hope of getting through the gathered crowd to silence the machines that were wailing around them.

There were tears in Mom’s eyes, which she blinked away with a short laugh.

“Secret’s out, then, I guess?” Ben asked as he pulled Rey in tighter, kissing her forehead. 

Leia shrugged helplessly. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I always have been bad at following your orders. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind when you set this act up.”

“You don’t know a damn thing, Ben Solo,” she said, her voice happy and wet. “Not a single damned thing.”

Later, once the crowd had thinned, then departed, and the haggard medics adjusted Rey’s and Ben’s monitors so she could stay in the bed beside him, Rey traced her hand over the tender wound slashed across his belly.

“Did you really think it was me? In the mask?” He kept his voice as neutral and gentle as he was able, though the thought hurt him more than the injury she was stroking.

Rey kept her eyes trained on her trailing hand. They were both more lucid now, their drips turned down and their heads clearer.

“I did,” she admitted. “I’m sorry, but I did.”

Ben nodded, that hurt in his chest expanding. “I deserve that, I guess.”

Rey paused, her hand over the deepest part of his wound, though she couldn’t know that through all the gauze and his hospital gown. He felt a strange heat emanating from beneath her palm, and it took him a moment to realize what she was doing.

“Don’t,” he said, laying his hand over hers. “I’ll be fine, and you need all your strength for healing yourself.”

She looked up, an expression of agony marring her suddenly pale face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I doubted you, after everything.”

Ben shook his head. “I’m not. Just shows me how smart you are. Makes me believe you’d be able to keep yourself safe, even if I weren’t there.”

Her eyes drifted to his mouth, a little lazy, slow with fatigue. “You are going to be there, though? Forever?” Her tone broke his heart, small and weak, as if she were afraid to hope. All her forevers had been short so far, and Ben wanted nothing more than to give this faithless girl something to believe in.

He nodded, kissing her with the lips she couldn’t seem to stop watching. “I’m here as long as you’ll have me. Shit, I’ll marry you, if you’ll let me.”

Rey smiled against his lips. “Maybe someday. For now--”

“For now, I can teach you, if you want. You were pure magic this morning, and--stars. I need to teach you, Rey. Show you everything you could be.” He laughed weakly. “After today, I may need you to show me a few things, honestly.”

“Okay,” she said simply, as if it were as easy as all that, as if he’d just asked her to breakfast. Then she pulled back, looking up at him curiously. “Your saber, the yellow one. Did you--?”

“No,” he said. “The thing’s too small for me to have made it.” Ben swallowed, looking away from her too-knowing eyes. “It’s Mom’s.”

Rey pulled his face back, her brows wrinkled in confusion. “Leia’s? How did she--?”

“That’s her story to tell,” Ben said. “I honestly don’t know all of it myself. But I’m glad she had it, and thought to give it to me. Thought to trust me with it.”

Rey nodded. “I am, too.”

They lapsed into silence, her fingers idly toying with the bit of scar that sloped over his jawline. Ben was dozing, halfway to sleep when she spoke again.

“I think you should move into my rooms,” she said, almost absently. “They’re too big for just me.”

Ben chuckled, his heart clenching at the idea of waking up to Rey, every day, for the rest of his life.

“Living in sin?” he teased. “What will people say?”

“That we’re in love,” Rey answered brightly. “They’ve said worse in the past, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure they have,” Ben agreed. 

Then he tucked her into him, as close as she would fit, and let himself finally relax. It wasn’t his first time falling asleep next to Rey, but it was the first time that he knew, with calm, perfect certainty, that she’d be there beside him when he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Do please take a moment to let me know your thoughts. I enjoy your comments more than I can possibly say, and I desperately need a smile these days. <3


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